


forever ice (like illinois all over again)

by ventilation



Series: poppies [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, One-sided Maria Hill/Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, References to Earth-616: Jessica Jones (2017) Comics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16356080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ventilation/pseuds/ventilation
Summary: And, like thunder rumbling under her feet, she realizes that he’s too far gone.





	forever ice (like illinois all over again)

—

When she calls out his name (—five letters, Latin origin meaning “crown”,  _and_   _it’s a really suiting name for a man bearing the weight of humanity’s pride_ , now that she thinks back—), it’s soft and warm and  _so humane_  that she’s not entirely certain if she’s heard herself right. She’s not something that’s human anymore, so really, where did all this come from?

In the back of her mind, a scene is played on repeat and she adores it with every  _play pause stop repeat reverse play_  her brain would force her to envision. And, though it’s not something she would have liked to relieve in that exact moment, the remembrance of having Captain America— _no_ , she amends,  _Steve Rogers_ —hold her like she’s fragile glass instead of unbendable steel, fight her demons away with chaste kisses like she actually  _deserves to be treated in such a manner_ , and love  _her_ (—a child who  _murdered_ her faceless mother, a girl blamed and hit and spat by her  _own_ father, a person who has  _nothing_ to her name but several ranks and questionable motives—) is not something she could just will to stay put.

And, neither can she ignore the phantoms and lingering shadows of his palms on her cheeks, reassuring her that it’s alright  _she’s alright she’s Maria Hill from Chicago, Illinois the right-hand agent of Nicholas Fury and she’s alright going to be alright because dammit if that’s not who Maria Hill I know is_ , so when her pulse catches up to her and the moment has passed, she’s disoriented and dizzy and  _so so guilty_   _for being jealous of the people he’s sacrificing his life to._

She amends, once again,  _envious_ , because being jealous would imply that she has him in her grasp in the first place, when the fact is contrary.

The signal crackles, “Do it.” And, like thunder rumbling under her feet, slow yet loud, she realizes that he’s too far gone and too far away from her reach now. Maria doesn’t have him any longer (—never really had him beyond  _whatever_ it had been they used to have—), but though the sudden knowledge bites, she has orders and orders are ultimate.

(Perhaps that had been her downfall, following orders, neverminding the dubiousness of each case and mission she be demanded to do well and succeed because  _she already knows._ Perhaps that had been his downfall too, orders, that he asks too many questions yet gives in to the commands, and doubt is a destructive thing in the playing field where instincts and cunning and schemes are its basis. Perhaps that had been the downfall of it all, she’s just too jaded and he’s just too damn persistent, and she’s helplessly—desperately—hoping it’s not.)

(She pitifully clings to a theory where it’s her choice and his choice that they left things where they have been—a mutual ground—and not just another sad outcome of varying interests.)

Though her hand is cold, she doesn’t shake when she decreases the targets’ population of seventy million people to the three helicarriers, windborne and worth several billion dollars. She doesn’t hesitate when she leaves the communications room, firing through HYDRA troops on the hunt, even when her fingers twitch in sporadic times. When she retrieves Nick and Natasha and flies the helicopter, she doesn’t pause to look at the fiery destruction of the earth-defense project she had once devoted her self in personally developing. She doesn’t think to chance a glance at anything but the sky and the falling headquarters, because Steve Rogers won’t die and the people he had protected  _will not die if she has any say to it._

Golgotha crumbles to its foundation, and Project Insight drowns like fallen angels thrust out of heaven.

—

When she visits his private room, Marvin Gaye is playing in the background as he sleeps. Nick has given her a few minutes until he needs her to drive him to his grandfather’s safe place (—and her mind conjures images, flashes of fire and secrets and—and, well, Maria thinks about that later—). He’s outside the hospital, and that’s fine with her, because Nick knows and, though Nick isn’t benign, he is good and that’s all she needs to know.

She closes the door and pulls the shutters on. Steve looks dead, and it almost surprises her. She only sighs, however, and though quite silent, it is fond, and she reaches to trace the cut on the corner of his mouth, sewn. His eyebrows aren’t drawn like they usually were and his breathing is relaxed. Nick had told her he’s stable and resting, but Maria knows that she shouldn’t expect him to wake up soon.

However, humans hope, and she's no different, because at the moment, if only a little, she's human,  _and humans hope_. So, Maria does— _hopes_  that he would at her visit, but well. Seeing him at an unguarded calmness is enough. She brushes her lips along the invisible lines on his forehead, and though his skin feels too cool, she lingers.

Her few minutes are up.

She stands, straighter now, and she casts him a fleeting glance before turning. She doesn’t expect Falcon to show up then, but she’s impressed at how quiet his entrance is to be too disturbed. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to him.”

“He’s asleep. I don’t think there would be a point in having a conversation if one side doesn’t have the proper state to be interacting with the other.”

Falcon laughs, beautifully and unrestrained. “It doesn’t mean they can’t hear you.” He shakes his head and clicks his tongue, and she finds this disbelief of his as if his words are basic information and that  _she should know this_  amusing. “Cap’s asleep, not dead, Miss Hill.”

“I know.”

And, she’s walking again, towards the door, before swinging it open. Falcon’s still looking at her, his gaze searing hot on her back, and so she sighs and looks back.

“And, call me  _Agent_ Hill, Sam.”

She smiles when she steps out of the room, closing the door behind her with a practiced flourish, and she leaves the remnants of her dying and bleeding human heart at its doorsteps. It’s kind of sad, she admits, but it’s fine. Finding closure has always been kind of sad, and this is no different.

Maria Hill leaves to the sound of disbelieving laughter of the new guy and the parting lines of “My Love is Waiting”whispering in her footsteps:  _“When I make you mine, I’ll be fine. My love is waiting for you.”_

—

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Earth-616, Jessica Jones (2017), Agent Hill (Maria Hill): “I told myself I would serve my command with everything I had. But I knew I had already lost my rights as a member of the human race.”
> 
> uploaded original version on ff.net at 22-05-18


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